Never Play With Sharp Objects (Or Spike)
by Lil Miss Giggles
Summary: Alternative continuation of Lie To Me
1. Default Chapter

Never Play With Sharp Objects (Or Spike)  
  
Title:- see above  
Rating:- PG13  
Distribution:- read, like, take, have, ask first  
Ownership:- Joss is God etc  
Feedback:- NOW OR ELSE!!!!  
Author's Notes:- this is an alternative continuation of "Lie To Me" so if the dialogue sounds familiar, you now know why.  
  
  
Buffy's stake hovered over the girl's heart.  
"Spike!"  
The vampire hesitated momentarily,  
"S'alright, baby. You're gonna be okay. I won't let the nasty lady hurt you."  
The insane woman whimpered as the Slayer held the stake closer,  
"Call them off, Spike, or your girlfriend fits in an ashtray."  
The peroxide blonde actually looked frightened. He swung round to face the pack of vampires who had temporarily stopped feasting on their worshippers and waited for him to speak.  
"Drop 'em. Leave them alone, now!"  
Vampires dropped half dead humans to the floor and stood watching their leader expectantly.  
Seizing her chance, Buffy threw Dru away from her and ran for the door, helping the others get out and slamming the door shut behind her. Spike caught Drusilla and attempted to rush after the girl he wanted dead,  
" 'Ere, where's the doorknob?"  
An informative voice called from downstairs,  
"There isn't one. This place is a converted bomb-shelter."  
Spike, now enfuriated, walked slowly down the stairs contemplating the consequences of ripping Ford's throat from his insignificant body,  
"Say that again."  
Ford pulled himself to his feet and obeyed,  
"There is no handle. It's a bomb-shelter." The only human who hadn't escaped with the Slayer looked around him, and Spike glared at him,  
"We're stuck in a basement."  
"So where's the Slayer?"  
"Not stuck in a basement."  
Ford shrugged apologetically,  
"That's no fault of mine. I delivered her to you, the rest was down to you lot."  
"S'ppose."  
"So now what?"  
Spike looked at Drusilla,  
"Hungry, Pet?"  
She looked at the human and her singsong voice answered her lover,  
"Not for blood."  
Spike took the hint and grinned mischevously,  
"Neither am I. We'll save him for later."  
  
"Pull harder!"  
Spike had his minions tugging on the reinforced steel door. After a whole night of non-stop manual labour, the door was still only just a bit wobbly. He cast his eyes over to Dru. She had made Ford sit in the corner while she toyed with the idea of sulphuric acid on human skin. The boy swallowed and Spike smiled maliciously at him, throwing his own words back at him,  
"Exalted, blessed, the Lonely Ones." He laughed softly, "Do I look lonely to you? Does Dru look blessed?"  
Choosing his words carefully, Ford replied in a trying-to-be-calm tone,  
"Not as such....she's ..uh.."  
The blonde vampire relieved him of his discomfort,  
"Mine. Dru, Pet, leave his hair alone. You know how I get when you mess up mine."  
She smiled faintly and withdrew her pale hands from Ford's hair, buttoning up his shirt to cover the "pretty pictures" she'd carved into the boy's chest with Spike's penknife. Spike was almost impressed with him, he hadn't made a noise as she sliced his skin. Then again, he was probably too afraid. The girl was quiet, but she had her moments.   
He turned back to the vampires at the door,  
"Put a little effort into it! Call yourself vampires?"  
At that last comment, the team put all their collective weight on the door pulling it off it's hinges. The blonde vampire joined in to rip the door from the wall. Now he had to find the car before they all fried.  
  
  
"Remind me what I said again."  
Ford cleared his throat of the blood Dru had made him swallow and obeyed,  
"You said, and I quote, "I've known you for two minutes and I can't stand you. I *don't* feature you living forever!"...if I remember correctly.."  
"You do, and might I add, my opinion hasn't changed...much."  
"Much?"  
"Much. Before I thought you pathetic, desperate and insignificant. Now I think you pathetic, desperate, insignificant and two-faced."  
Ford shifted uncomfortably. His eyes darted nervously to the peroxide blonde pacing infront of him and his psychotic lover kneeling by the chair Ford was strapped in. She was cutting holes in the toe of his shoes with the penknife. The human began to attempt to free his hands from the rope that tied them to the chair. Spike stopped wearing a hole in the floor and turned to face his prisoner,  
"Two-faced is good. Great potential as a turncoat. Not one of mine though. Traitors are not regardly highly in my eyes."  
Ford winced as the knife point reached his toe,  
"Uh, can you call your..um...girlfriend off? Please?"  
She looked at her lover for assurance,  
"Spike?"  
The blonde vampire signalled for her to come away,  
"Over here, baby."  
She stood and walked slowly towards him, wandering around him she ran her finger over his shoulders.  
"Let me play."  
"Not now, Luv. I want this one alive....ish."   
"Not fair."  
Spike considered the thought of Drusilla playing with Ford. He smiled at his human prisoner. The kind of smile a wolf gives a lamb right before he bites its head off. Hooking his arm round Dru's waist, he brought her around to face him,  
"For a little while. But no acid or railroad spikes. I want to ask him a few things."  
  
When Spike returned, he found Dru holding his penknife and smiling happily at a mutilated body. Ford.  
"Dru, Pet, I thought I said I wanted to question him."  
She turned to face him, the picture of innocence,  
"You never said he had to answer."  
The blonde vampire ran his hand through his ever-so-gelled hair. That was just one of the symptoms of Dru's insanity, you had spell stuff like that out for her or she did what she liked. If she didn't like what someone was saying, she ignored them. Her voice was child-like with a singsong tone that screamed psychopath as soon as she spoke. He smiled fondly at her,  
"Nevermind, Pet. As long as he made you happy."  
She looked at the bloodsoaked knife in her hand then licked it clean. Spike rushed to grab it before she cut her tongue,  
"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to put knives in your mouth?"  
Dru's face fell a little and her voice sounded more vulnerable than usual.  
"Yes. Before Angel ripped her throat out."  
He instantly regretted what he'd said. He should have known better than to mention her birth family while she was within earshot. She whimpered slightly, the way she always did when she was upset and about to cry. Removing the blade from her pale hand, he hugged her and she buried her face in his shoulder.  
"I'm sorry, Luv. I'm a bad, rude man."  
"Spike?"  
She lifted her head to look him in the eye.  
"Yes, Pet?"  
"My tummy's all growly."  
  
They returned after a couple hours feeding and looked at what was left of Ford's body. Spike shrugged nonchalantly,  
"He got what he wanted, died young...but maybe not so pretty."  
Drusilla sulked momentarily,  
"I thought it was pretty." She dismissed the conversation with a faint smile and swiftly changed the subject, "What about the nasty lady?"  
"Nevermind her, she's her own problem, not ours."  
Spike looked at her. She may have been insane as they got but he could see her mind calculating behind those beautiful eyes. She scared him sometimes, she was completely psychotic, yet still managed to be completely focussed when she needed to be.  
"What're you thinking, Pet?"  
"Thoughts."  
"Good ones?"  
"Perhaps....I'm tired."  
Spike looked at his watch, time for her usual rest. He picked her up and set her down on the bed in the next room. Carefully tucking her in, he watched as she drifted off into a deep sleep. He examined her face carefully then said to her,  
"Sleep tight, Pet"  



	2. Part 2

  
A/N: usual disclaimers apply  
  
Spike sat in his chair deep in thought. Drusilla had been thinking her thoughts, usually meaning she'd spotted something he hadn't. He glanced towards the doorway, through which he could see Dru lying on the bed, pointing at the ceiling - a dreamy half smile acros her face. Naming the stars. Again. This was becoming one of her favourite games. He stood and crossed the room. Leaning against the door-frame, he looked in at her,  
"Thoughts any clearer, Pet?"  
"Shhh."  
He rolled his eyes. She had to finish her game first so he waited. She lowered her arm and beckoned for him to come over. He approached and sat beside her as she pulled herself up to sit at the edge of the bed. She tugged at his shirt sleeve and he moved closer. She snapped her teeth playfully at his ear and whispered,  
"Miss. Edith speaks to me."  
Keeping his usual temperance towards her, he glanced briefly at the doll seated on the shelf - Miss. Edith. He sighed,  
"And what does she tell you, Luv?"  
Dru motioned for him to bring the porcelain figure to her and he obeyed, taking it from the shelf and gently placing it in his Sire's outstretched arms.  
"She says they're plotting."  
Spike knew that "they" were the Scoobies and their slayer, he smiled faintly as Drusilla cradled the dool in her arms as she would a baby and continued with her thoughts,  
"She says they have plans, secrets - and he knows."  
"Who knows? Angelus?"  
She shook her head slowly,  
"He's coming, Spike. He's coming with lovely toys to please you."  
She lay back, positioning Miss. Edith beside her and humming her a lullaby. Spike knew she would say no more on the subject. Not unless her visions permitted.   
Returning to his chair, Spike picked up his trail of thought and began to scheme.  
  
  
Drusilla knelt on the floor beside spike. He was doing his press-ups. He said they helped him to think. She watched him for a while then returned to styling Miss. Edith's long, blonde hair. At the moment it was in swet ringlets - soon it would be in braids or piled high on her head.  
Blocking her incessant humming from his mind. Spike closed his eyes and concentrated on the press-ups. Two hours non-stop was making him hungry. He opened his eyes and stared at the concrete floor as his sire stood and sat on the table, swinging her lgs in time to the muic only she could hear.  
Then she fell.  
Behind him, Spike heard her hit the floor, she cried in pain as she clutched her stomach and the world seemed to spin as the vision filled all her senses. He stopped and sat up, facing her,  
"Dru? Dru, Pet!"  
She curled up on the floor and wept, the pain increasing. Rushing towards her, Spike gathered her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. She was in pain and he couldn't stand it. He watched in silence as the cries subsided and she slept, almost as if nothing had happened.  
Quietly he pulled up a chair and grabbed the morning newspaper and waited patiently for her to wake. To tell him what she'd seen.  



	3. Part 3

He took a step closer, deliberately letting the sweet aroma of her blood fill his nostrils and cause the demon within him to reveal itself. Her fear pleased him as his face contorted, fangs glistening and ready for lunch. She inched away, knowing that he was not likely to keep his side of the bargain. But he'd promised. She scolded herself for trusting him, for believing he would let her live after all that had happened. Attempting to appear confident, she drew herself up to her full height and stood her ground. It had no affect. Her efforts rolled off him like water off a duck's back. She saw the predatory smile that passed between his colleagues and himself. She saw the subtle yet noticeable signal that passed between him and his senior. He stepped closer and she caught the bloodthirsty light that danced in his eyes. He lifted his hand to her chin, frcing her to look him in the eye. This game was over. She'd lost the battle and they all knew it. Reverting back to his human face, he smiled contently and released her chin. Passing his hand over her eyes, he murmured a short incantation and she crumpled to the floor, unconscious. Gazing down at her, he motioned for his colleagues to approach,  
"String her up with the others, but don't damage her," He grinned, "That's *my* job."  
  
The dark-haired vampire smiled as he walked up the row of humans. They were hung by their ankles over an altar, on which was an urn. The kind ashes were put into after a cremation. His smile broadened. As he counted the mortals hung from the beam. Six. They were ready. Ready at last. Then he suddenly became deadly serious,  
"You're sure everything is in here?" He tapped the urn and a minor nodded eagerly,  
"Every last particle. We are ready."  
He smiled all the more as the minor scurried off to fetch the others. His gaze glided over the altar, then over the sacrifices. Finally this was going to work. Six vampires filed in through the door wearing black robes and carrying a curved blade each. The vampire stood at the head of the altar and took the book handed to him. He looked up. The rest were in position, all standing before their assigned sacrifices. Each sacrifice possessed a different gift. Telekinesis, telepathy, psychic, healing powers, soul-reading and finally the seer. He looked down at the book and began his chant,  
"Hythima irthygam myntaah,  
Aadrytert jyhtuim ythaart  
Riythioum asythared jiuhtyh  
Thyrgh lomingah domingah  
Yrghad jaart garathimna."  
He paused and a respectful silence fell as the throat of the first sacrifice was cut. The blood spilt over the urn and across the altar surface. His mind slowly calculating behind his glacial blue eyes, the vampire glanced at the next victim then at her executor, then back at the book and resumed his chant,  
"Hythima irthygam myntaah,  
Aadrytert jyhtuim ythaart  
Riythioum asythared jiuhtyh  
Thyrgh lomingah domingah  
Yrghad jaart garathimna."  
The next throat was slit and again the blood gushed out and over the urn, tracing the same reddened path as the blood before it. Resuming his chant, the last throats were sliced, and the dark-haired vampire put the book down and took a control from his pocket. Smiling faintly, he glanced at the rest of the vampires in the room,  
"Stay here, wouldn't want you to miss the finale." His smile was reassuring and the vampires grinned at eachother, they were staying put. If he was going to be brought forth, they didn't want to miss it.  
The vampire sauntered past them and out of the door to "prepare" for the final stage, the others stood in anticipation, fearing and admiring what was about to come.  
  
In the hall, the vampire looked at the control in his hand. Grinning wickedly, he pressed the small blue button in the centre and waited.  
  
Beside the altar, the vampires waited also. They expected him to return with a breath-taking finale, something truly spectacular. Something worthy of the creature they were summoning. What they got was totally unexpected. The wall behind them opened up, letting in the harsh light of day.  
  
He waited for the screams to subside, then pressed the button again. He heard the joints creak as the wall closed and he returned to the altar. Infront of the sacrificed mortals lay the ashes of the sacrificed vampires. 12 in all. Returning to his place at the head of the altar, he looked down at the open book and finished the incantation,  
"Garathimna jyhtuim mintarg  
Yamaag ghaard toalingyah."  
His voice cracked on the last word as the urn lid shattered and thick smoke spilled out, filling the room. Through the smoke a voice was heard, English and very relieved,  
"12 sacrifices. Their deaths give me little pleasure." The smoke cleared, revealing the speaker. The vampire smiled the Master,  
"But sometimes a little is enough, no?" 


End file.
